


I Don't Blame You For Being You

by emeraldcitydowntowngirl



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bloodplay, Dom!Patrick, Dom/sub, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub!Pete, Vampire!Pete, YES I WRITE BOTTOM PETE AGAIN!, actually theres a little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5683123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldcitydowntowngirl/pseuds/emeraldcitydowntowngirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which everything is kind of the same- Patrick and Pete are still in a loving relationship, Pete's still Patrick's loyal sub, and so on. Everything is kind of the same except... well... Pete's sort of turned into a vampire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Blame You For Being You

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: in one part, patrick cuts his arm and he alludes to self-harm, although the reason /why/ he cuts his arm isnt for self-harming purposes. just throwing that out there, so if you are triggered by that, i dont suggest reading!

They'd both be lying if they said that things were the same, actually. Because truthfully, things were far from the same.

 

 

Before the incident, Pete was a lot more easy to man-handle; Patrick could throw him on a bed, pin him up against a wall, keep him closed in. Patrick also wasn't worried that their beautiful, silver handcuffs could sizzle Pete's skin off, and he wasn't worried that Pete could automatically turn on him and kill him in a split second if something went horribly wrong.

Before the incident, Patrick had the most control, because that's just how it was, how they liked it. Pete was his boyfriend who didn't crave blood all of the time, and they didn't have to worry about anything else except rope burns on Pete's skin if Patrick tied him up too hard. But now, Pete naturally had the most control and he _absolutely hated it._

In fact, the one thing that remained the same is that Pete and Patrick still loved Rushmore, still loved spending time together and writing music. They're still them it's just... extremely different. 

But they made it work. For example...

Pete was quiet, and lying on their bed. His legs were spread, and he had his hands above his head, one hand over the other, clasping them together. They couldn't use handcuffs or spreader bars anymore, but it didn't mean Patrick didn't expect Pete to not do what he was told to. It just meant they had to adapt.

Pete's also, at this point, extremely thirsty. He can hear Patrick's sweet, warm blood pumping from the other room, and it makes his cock harden. If he had a heart, it would be beating fast. They do this sometimes, it makes Pete more desperate, makes him more weak. It gives Patrick more control that way. 

Pete hasn't had any blood since last night, and like a meal, he needs blood at least 3 times a day- but since, when they play like this, Patrick allows Pete to drink from him, Pete would gladly wait a week, a month. Patrick has the sweetest blood he has ever tasted (granted, he drinks from blood bags that have been refrigerated and cold blood is like cold coffee. It's not as good when you heat it up, you know? You need that stuff fresh.)

He hears Patrick's footsteps, and hears the door open. He's immediately hit with Patrick's scent, and Pete's legs shake with anticipation.

"I thought I told you to be still" Patrick sing-songs, walking over to scan Pete's body. He expects Pete to be absolutely still, because now that Pete has the power to be still, Patrick expects it. He thinks back to 3 months ago when Pete would be squirming in handcuffs in this same position. 

"Sorry, Sir" falls from Pete's lips, before he clenches his jaw and shuts his mouth as Patrick brings his hand up to Pete's face, to pet him lovingly. When Pete opens his eyes to look at Patrick, they're bright red. It doesn't make Patrick flinch as bad as it used to. 

"So beautiful" He mutters, his hand going into Pete's jet black hair, smoothing it out. 

Patrick can no longer make lasting makes on Pete's skin- they heal instantly. The only thing that works now, the only thing that can ever really rile Pete up again is teasing, and making him wait for it. 

"Not that I would know" Pete adds, sightly dejectedly. Patrick just pulls on his hair, making Pete's breath hitch- he can feel that. "Shut up. You're beautiful"

Pete can no longer look into a mirror anymore. It's still a little hard for him, but Patrick always straightens his hair for him and applies his eyeliner for him, so it's not all bad. 

Patrick settles in between Pete's legs, watching him for any indication that Pete will snap- it's happened once before. Patrick was teasing him for too long and suddenly Pete had him against the floor, fracturing his wrist in the process. Of course, right after the incident happened, Pete threw up blood and sobbed and locked himself in his room for days. Again... it was hard for the both of them. 

But Pete's just staring back up at him, still as always. He gives Patrick a small smile, a silent 'I'm okay, keep going' and Patrick traces the insides of Pete's thighs right below his cock. He doesn't move at all.

"You remember the word, hm?" Pete nods, before he hears rustling. Patrick's fully clothed, and he pulls a knife out of his pants pocket. It's silver, and although Pete wouldn't perish and die if it hits him, it'll seriously burn- he watches it with a careful eye.

"I want to try something different. I know you can handle it, but you have to safe-word if it's too much. Do you understand me?" Patrick says, in that low voice that drives Pete absolutely wild. Pete gulps, but he nods "Yes, Sir"

"It's not... it's not a product of my, uh..." Patrick can't help but falter at this, but he shakes his head "It's not me restoring back to self-harm. I'm just..." He pauses, before pressing the knife to his pale arm.

Pete watches with wide eyes, watches as Patrick presses the blade into his skin, and throws the bloody knife to the floor. Blood surfaces to the skin on Patrick's forearm, and Pete moans, shaking and loud.

"Stay still, or else I'm not letting you taste" Patrick glares at him, and Pete can only grip his own hands harder, his eyes focusing immediately on the blood dripping down Patrick's arm. It's not necessarily a deep cut, but that doesn't matter, because it's blood, and it's Patrick's and it smells like heaven 

"Yes, Sir" Pete gets out through gritted teeth, his eyes glued to the bright red blood slowly moving down Patrick's arm. It's mesmerizing, the color of the blood against Patrick's beautiful, porcelain skin. Patrick reaches out and grips Pete's jaw with the other hand, however. "Look at _me_ " 

Long story short, it makes Pete absolutely weak. He can't think about anything else, he can only feel Patrick's hands on him and smell the sweetest blood he's ever smelt before. He can hardly register when Patrick grips his hair again "What the fuck did I say? Look at me or you're not getting off" He hears Patrick growl, and he looks into Patrick's bright blue eyes with a nod, and a "Yes Sir, sorry Sir"

Patrick wraps a hand around Pete's cock, and rubs his thumb across the head. "Now, despite your few slip-ups, you've been well behaved. I think you deserve a treat" Patrick says, smearing the blood on the arm that's jerking Pete off with his free finger, before pressing his bloody finger against Pete's lips "No biting" He commands, as Pete wraps his lips around Patrick's fingers and sucks the blood off carefully, moaning as he feels Patrick slowly pumps his cock. 

It's such a small amount that it only makes Pete more desperate- it's like seeing a whole festive meal in front of you and only getting one single, small bite. It takes all of Pete's strength (and he has _a lot_ of that) to not reach up and bite Patrick's neck. 

"Good boy" Patrick coos, bringing his finger back and coating more of them with more blood, looking up to make sure that Pete's not being greedy and looking to see how much he gets. His free hand is just lazily jerking Pete off, but everything feels so good that Pete can't help but to let out a couple of high pitched whines, staring at Patrick in front of him as he sucks the digits in his mouth. 

Now that Patrick's fingers are slick with drool, he presses one in Pete's hole slowly, watching as Pete hisses and turns his head to groan into a pillow. If Patrick punches Pete in the face, it wouldn't hurt, even for a second, but the stretch will always get to him.

"Easy" Patrick warns him, because if Pete does as much as buck his hips, it could easily throw Patrick off the bed and on the floor. But Pete's allowed to push back on his finger, so that's what he does, his heels digging into the mattress. 

"Fuck, Patrick, more" Pete groans, before catching himself "Sir! I meant... Sir, please" Patrick chuckles lowly at this, but doesn't do anything about it besides take his hand off Pete's dick.

"You're lucky I'm punishing you enough, what with the blood" Patrick says against Pete's hipbones, where his head is buried. He looks up and gives Pete a devilish grin. Pete bares his teeth back at him, his fangs showing. But he does it with a smile in his eyes- an 'I'm okay, keep going' 

And Pete knows what he means, about the punishing him with the blood. Because just as it was a treat, now the smell of fresh blood is in the air, now the blood is drying on Patrick's arm, and he can't do a single thing about it. If Patrick's blood was still, y'know, in him, it'd be a different story. But now he can smell a wound and he can't get anything from it. Patrick's pretty evil. And pretty in general. 

Patrick pushes his other fingers in before the saliva on them dries up, and he lets Pete grind back on them carefully, sometimes giving in and curling his fingers when he gets bored of just watching.

When Patrick hits Pete's prostate, Pete growls loudly, rolling his hips helplessly against the air. "Hey! Easy!" Patrick yells at him, and Pete snarls at him, but doesn't move otherwise, letting Patrick take control because something inside Pete's conscious yells at him "Don't do anything stupid!" 

"Are you going to be still? Or should I just jack off, and feed you a blood bag, and call it a day?" Patrick teases, pumping his fingers in and out and watching as Pete's breath hitches "Please, please, please, I'll be good, I'll be good"

Patrick considers this for a moment, before petting Pete's hair "Alright. You stay still while I get the lube. If you move a muscle I'm calling it quits" Pete nods obediently, not even wincing when Patrick pulls his fingers out of his ass to rummage in their bedside drawer for the lube.

He looks back at Pete once he gets it and pauses to marvel at Pete for just a moment. How even though his eyes are bright red and his fangs are peaking from his lips, he's still Pete to him. Even though his lips are stained red from Patrick's blood, even though there are no signs of love marks on his collar bones. 

"What?" Pete asks him, once Patrick's been staring long enough. He just shakes his head and smears some lube over his hole, pushing his fingers back in. "I love you, Pete. No matter what" Patrick says, clearly so that Pete knows. Not that Patrick has never said it before, but suddenly Patrick's so grateful that Pete hasn't already snapped and killed him and drained him of his blood. So grateful that Pete's still so loyal to him. 

"I love you too" Pete says back, leaning up to kiss Patrick. Slowly, carefully, making sure not to jab Patrick's lip. Patrick kisses him back, his hand snaking in between them to slick himself up.

"Can I wrap my legs around you? Sir? I'll be good" Pete looks up at him with a hopeful look in his eyes, pulling away from their kiss. Patrick nods, before shaking his head "Hold on. I'm gonna..." Patrick carefully drapes one of Pete's legs over his shoulder "If you crush me..." He trails off, as Pete shakes his head "Not gonna"

Patrick balances himself over Pete's hole, one hand pushing at Pete's clasped hands. "Arms around my neck. Don't squeeze" Pete let's out a shuddering breath as he reaches out for Patrick just as he presses in, stretching and filling Pete up, stilling until Pete tell him otherwise. One time, Patrick moved too quickly and Pete shoved him off, screaming in pain, throwing him to the foot of the bed. 

Pete whimpers, and nods, bringing Patrick's body down with his leg until they're pressed flush against each other. Patrick gives him a warning look, but steadies himself and starts thrusting shallowly 

"Nnnngh, Sir, harder" Pete moans, his attention flying from Patrick's eyes, to the dried blood on his arm, to the cock in his ass, and back. 

"Harder?" Patrick taunts, slowly this thrusts and rolling his hips in a circle. Not enough movement to let Pete off with it, enough movement for Pete to not get too mad. Patrick has Pete down to a T now. 

Pete just whimpers, bringing Patrick's head closed until they're practically kissing again "I'll be good, I'll be good, just fuck me harder, please" 

He thrusts hard, and let's Pete scream in his ear, let's Pete wail and moan as long as he stays as still as he possibly can. And he does. 

"I love you" Patrick ducks his head to kiss at Pete's neck once Pete's back to whining and pushing back against his cock, and Patrick keeps his steady pace. His hair is matted to his forehead, and his eyes are glaring into Pete's, in concentration, _'don't do anything out of the ordinary, don't do anything out of the ordinary'_

As Patrick's thrusts increase, so does his heart rate. And Pete can feel that as heavy and as sharp as his thrusts- The sound of Patrick's heart thumping and beating makes Pete's mouth water and he's so _hungry_

"Patrick, Sir, I need it, I need it" Pete cries, his head leaning out to lick at the dried blood on Patrick's arm. 

"No biting" Patrick warns him, glaring down at Pete while he licks at the blood on Patrick's arm helplessly. The taste is mixed with sweat and it only makes Pete's body shake harder, makes him clench around Patrick's cock harder.

"Sir! I'm gonna..." He trails off just as Patrick hits his prostate. With a free hand, Patrick reaches for a wooden stake from the bedside table, and Pete and Patrick made eye contact for a split second.

The stake. Although Patrick absolutely hates it, hates having it weigh in his hands, Pete insisted. Pete'd rather displease his Dom than kill him, you know?. Whenever Pete sucks Patrick's blood, he makes sure Patrick has it in his hands, or else he safe-words. He doesn't trust himself enough not to do anything, although _Patrick_ trusts him enough

It takes a couple more thrusts for Patrick to come, hot spurts in Pete's ass, but he rolls over quickly, sinking his fingers in where his cock just was, curling and brushing on Pete's prostate. He rolls so he's on his side, facing Pete and takes a deep breath.

"Now" Pete immediately ducks his head to sink his fangs into Patrick's neck, moaning against his skin as Patrick moves his fingers in and out hard. 

The taste instantly makes him come, his cock untouched. He sucks, resisting Patrick's screams (although Patrick tries to stifle them as much as he can), blood flooding into his system, warm and sweet in his mouth. His entire body tingles, from the hot blood and from having an orgasm and he's on Cloud 9

Patrick has the stake against the skin above his heart, in case Pete doesn't stop exactly when Patrick tells him to. The pain from the bite kind of sucks (literally) but he knows how bad Pete gets if he doesn't get his fix of it, knows that his blood is better than any orgasm he could ever give Pete. And once Patrick begins to feel light-headed, he grits out "Stop now!"

And Pete stops, pulling his fangs out to lick at the wound helplessly and needily until it closes. Patrick look into Pete's eyes, now a familiar brown color. Pete's lips and teeth are stained red but he smiles at Patrick and nuzzles close to him once Patrick throws the stake to the floor "That was _awesome_ " He says, cradling Patrick as he slurs sleepily- having liters of his blood sucked out of his system usually does that to him "Mmm. Love you, Pete. Always"

Pete smiles sadly at Patrick, but kisses his cheek. Not always, he reminds himself. Soon, along the line, Patrick will die and Pete'll be here all alone- Pete refuses to bite Patrick, even when Patrick commands it. And any other vampire would kill Patrick- the only reason Pete wasn't dead already was because William Beckett was such a fuck-up of a vampire. 

"You know... Pete..." He begins to say, but Pete whimpers, shaking his head "No, fuck no, you don't deserve this"

"You don't fucking deserve it, either. I want to be with you forever!" Patrick whines- he is, after all, 5 years younger than Pete. But Pete just smiles, looking at him. If he could cry, he'd cry "Some other time, okay? Just... some other time. I can't do this to you, make you this... this _monster_ " 

"You're not a monster" Patrick says firmly, leaning up to glare at Pete although he can't focus that well- he's still a little sleepy.

"Do you understand me, Pete? You're not a monster you're... fuck, you're my everything. Despite it all, you're still my constant, you're still fucking there for me and I love you _always_ " Patrick says, desperate. 

Pete just nods, knowing he can't disagree with him without a fight. He just opts for giving Patrick a chaste kiss. "Love you too. Come take a shower with me? Please?" He runs a finger through the sticky come on his stomach, and licks it, grinning when Patrick winces.

Patrick just stares at Pete's fangs longingly. But he nods, before slapping Pete's finger away "You're just fuckin' gross. Let's go" 

**Author's Note:**

> things i shouldnt be bragging about, but i will brag about: i wrote the majority of this at a child's bday party. go me!


End file.
